𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬

02 | Uncovering a Truth

"Would you believe me if I said it was out of the goodness of my own heart?"

"No," I bluntly stated.

Faisal looked over his shoulder and motioned for me to follow. "Then you're wiser than I originally thought."

I loudly slurped a hefty serving of spaghetti into my mouth as a response, cautiously following after him, only to frown as he entered another room and pointed towards a large leather couch situated near the corner.

"Sit down and take off your jacket."

I choked on a noodle. "Excuse me?"

"I can smell the blood on you."

Faisal's words were rough, silver eyes staring directly at the covered wound that was spreading. Before I could refuse, he stepped in front of the entrance and herded us over, lightly pushing my shoulder and forcing me down.

"Who did this?" He lifted the hem of my shirt, assessing the damage while ignoring my flushed cheeks. "It wasn't from the convenience store altercation."

I swatted his hands away. "Doesn't matter then."

"You'll take it off." Without another word, he got up and left.

My side was pulsing, and I could only obey as the severity from allowing it to bleed all day became prominent. It was a stupid accident, getting distracted and allowing the attacker to take a swipe at my unguarded stomach.

Faisal returned with a small container, giving me a pleased look for obeying his command. Without further ado, he expertly cleaned the wound. Both our noses scrunched up from the strong alcoholic smell emitting from the bottle.

I watched him gently tend to the injury, uncomfortable by how he effortlessly eased his way into my mind.

Mannerisms and gestures that were so familiar...

A strong sense of déjà vu hit me, but I swallowed any musings and decided to stay silent. I gritted my teeth as he pulled another sloppy makeshift stitch, not bothering to watch as he took out a sharp needle and medical thread. My temporary doctor didn't give any words of ease, merely sewing and wrapping the now closed wound with gauze.

"You are careless."

The striking man admired his work with a frown, almost as if he was tired of always patching me up. Another strong feeling of nostalgia hit, and I didn't think twice as the next words automatically left my mouth.

"Yet you never care any less."

He froze, before turning his gaze to me.

My own brows furrowed, baffled by where those words came from and not truly understanding them.

"You subconsciously remember." Faisal's expression morphed into one of triumph, a possessive look entering his eyes as he watched me fumble for an excuse. "Only time will tell—get some rest and go to sleep, we'll continue this conversation in the morning."

I didn't know how to respond.

With a silent incline of his head, he exited the room.

The first thing I did was lock the door with shaking hands, grunting roughly as I pushed the large couch over to create a barricade.

My heart pounded.

I sat down while clutching tangled hair in a firm grip, deciding to sort through all the events that transpired tonight—with Maverick pushing all other thoughts away.

I've been trying to suppress the catalyst that was him.

It took me three years to finally adapt from his absence, and another four to allow bitterness into my core, blaming him for everything. When finally this year I came to terms with the dealings, erasing Maverick from memory entirely.